


A Study of Time Perception in Androids

by Earlinde



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Minor Character Death, Mortality, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-19 02:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15500274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earlinde/pseuds/Earlinde
Summary: Do androids perceive time?





	1. November, 2038

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rather unpolished translation of my work (in progress). English is not my first language, so please pardon any grammatical errors or awkward diction (and please point them out to me! This is how I can learn :D).  
> Comments will be greatly appreciated! I'm kinda stuck with where to go next with my story and desperately need some feedback!  
> At last, please enjoy!

“Hey, Connor...” After they’ve been stuck at this red light for twenty-five seconds, the police lieutenant finally stopped restlessly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He turned and looked at his partner in the front seat. “Do you ever feel time?”

It was a strange question, and Connor was clearly not expecting it. The LED on his forehead flickered yellow, but only for a few seconds.

“Lieutenant, I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” Connor replied after careful evaluation. “If you wanted to ask whether androids have anything similar to the ‘Circadian Rhythm’ in humans, then the answer is negative. Androids’ time module is always synced with the cloud. We have access to the current time of all twenty-four time zones, within an error range of .00015 seconds. Apart from the Gregorian Calendar, we also support other common--”

“No, that's not what I meant,” Hank waved him off impatiently. “I mean… Do you ever feel the passing of time? Maybe sometimes one minute feels like an hour, but other times an entire day goes by in the blink of an eye. Like that.”

Connor tilted his head; his LED turned yellow again.

“No, Lieutenant. I don't think I understand what you're saying.”

The elder man sighed quietly in his seat.

“Never mind.”


	2. October, 2039

The second time this topic came up was in Captain Fowler’s office. Hank got into the first argument over his attendance with the captain after a really long time, and of course Connor was there as collateral damage.

“Hank, I was just about to put in a good word about your recent performance this month! And now you’re pulling this shit on me again?” The captain slammed his fists on the desk, almost knocking over the half-filled coffee cup nearby. “You were an hour late on Monday, and I thought maybe you just overslept so I let you off. But God dammit, you just had to test my patience! This entire week nobody could find you until after fucking lunchtime, and today if Connor hadn’t dragged you here, I’d bet you’re just not gonna even show up!”

Hank snorted without evening looking at Fowler. “What, that douchbag Gavin couldn’t get any shit done without me?”

“Detective Reed is already overloaded! And this is not about him, but about you not doing your fucking job!” The captain was clearly irritated by Hank’s attitude; this is the fourth time he’d raised his volume by approximately three decibels in the past five minutes.

Connor slid a discreet glance to the glass door of the office, trying to make sure that this war between them was well contained in this room only.

“How about you stop busting my balls and wait till I _actually_ fuck up a case?” Hank started yelling back at the almost same volume, if not higher. “Then you can bitch about how I’m _not_ doing my job!”

Without giving the Captain any chance for further arguments, Hank stormed right out of the office. The glass door slammed shut behind him, leaving Connor in the office alone with the captain.

Neither of them said anything for a while, and the silence in the room soon became quite insufferable.

“Captain, I think you should know…” Despite his great hesitation, Connor decided that the captain should know the truth after all. “I found the lieutenant in the cemetery this morning. He was visiting--”

“I know, I know.” Captain Fowler waved his hand and sat back down to his desk. He fell silent for a while, rubbing his forehead against his palm.

“Of course I knew. God damn October. I just hope he could…”

The captain went silent again.

Connor was still standing before his desk, not certain what was the right thing to do. He wanted to leave and find Hank as soon as possible, but he also had a vague feeling that the captain had more to say. He decided to wait for a little longer.

One second.

Five seconds.

Forty-eight seconds.

Just when he was about to give up, Fowler finally looked up, the weariness on his face almost shocking. It wasn’t something Connor had ever expected to see in this police captain.

“Connor, October is always a long month in Detroit, especially for Hank.” He sighed quietly. “The next few weeks are gonna be hard for you.”

Connor’s LED flickered yellow, but only for a moment. With his experience last time, he has somewhat gotten used to this kind of strange and illogical description of time from humans. He wanted to correct Captain Fowler that there are only thirty-one days in October, in Detroit as well as any other place. It’s no longer or shorter for anyone in any way. But he knew the captain well enough to know better.

“Got it.” He replied shortly and left the office.


	3. March, 2042

“Connor, have you ever felt that our life is too long?”

Markus said to him after Carl’s funeral.

It’s been a while since they last met. Ever since the revolution, they’ve been busy with their own responsibilities; between almost every single decision that had to be made for Jericho and the endless negotiations and communication with the government, Markus could hardly find any time for himself.

The same goes for Connor. Although the revolution ended peacefully, the tension between humans and androids was still palpable: the increasing number of android related cases that DPD got each day was the best proof.

Neither of them expected that the next time they met would be such a mournful occasion.

Connor looked at Markus quietly. He didn’t quite know what to say to comfort him. Although he was well aware that as androids, they would only wear out their parts, and would not actually “age” in the human’s sense, he still couldn’t help but feel that Markus now looked much older than before.

He was always the most human one.

“Our battery can support us to go on for nearly two centuries.” Markus’s voice was light, but to Connor the words were too heavy. “Two centuries… All those time. How are we gonna _live_?”

Connor remained silent. If Markus wants—if any android wants, they could live even longer than that. Broken parts can be replaced, outdated components can be upgraded. The time they _could_ have is much longer than two centuries.

“All those years I spent with Carl—almost half of my life,” the leader didn’t seem to mind his reticence and kept going. “I can remember every single detail, from the first time I walked into that mansion, every single minute of every day…”

Markus’s hands were slowly dancing in the air, like he was painting on a canvas that Connor could not see.

“But that wasn’t enough, no…” His hands were now down and clenched to fists by his sides. “This one day is longer than all these years combined.”

Although it was already mid-March, the weather was still dark and gloomy in Detroit. There were no red sunsets or violet sky. Only the dimming daylight announced to them that the night has come.

_This day isn’t even over yet._ Connor thought. But he didn’t think there’s an error in Markus’s time module.

He’s just too human.

This thought somewhat depressed Connor. He reached out and put his hand on Markus’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Markus.”


	4. December, 2043

The first time Connor _felt_ time was the day he got the sleep module.

This module has been out for a while, and in the past few years, Hank had tried countless times to get him to install this new feature, unfortunately to no avail. Connor always deflected by arguing that they had too many cases in hand and that he needed to be on maximum efficiency at all times.

But he knew that wasn’t the only reason.

“Sleep” was not a foreign concept to Connor. As an RK-series prototype, he knew just about everything to know about basic human physiology and biology. If necessary, he could even accurately simulate human’s behaviors during sleep.

However, he wouldn’t _really_ fall asleep. Even during simulation, his neural network would maintain a normal activity level. Although looking exactly like any human deep in their dream, Connor’s environmental sensors and computational functions would stay at the same level just as if he was at work—

In other words, he was _awake_.

“That’s why I told you, that’s not sleeping!” The first time Connor described his “sleep module” to Hank, the elder lieutenant suddenly got mad and slapped him on the back of his head. “That’s not even ‘faking’; you’re just working with your fucking eyes closed!”

Connor was a little upset. He simply described one of his features as it is; he did nothing to deserve that slap. Hank probably also didn’t feel too good about it—he gently patted Connor on the spot where he’d hit just now.

 “Anyway, we have to get rid of that stupid module of yours as soon as possible.”

Yet Connor wasn’t sure whether he really wanted the “real” sleep Hank was pushing him towards. His research told him that human would lose consciousness during sleep, and that deep sleep resembles death in many unsettling ways.

The closest Connor had ever gotten to that state was back at the Stratford Tower; during the interrogation, a deviant forcibly removed his thirium pump regulator and almost caused him to shut down. Connor still clearly recalled all those sensations he got at the time: dysfunction in his optical unit, making his once crystal-clear vision all distorted and blurred-up; failure in his vocal component, making it impossible to call out to Hank for help despite that he was just in the next room; disorder in his mobile system, making a movement as simple as crawling an almost unachievable task.

But beyond that, there was another “feeling”, something that’s unrelated to his hardware.

Although Connor did not turn on his tactile sensor at the time, he felt _cold_. An overarching coldness, spreading up from his unresponsive limbs, replacing the thirium that leaked from his body, surrounding all of his biocomponents, eventually engulfing his central processor, almost eliminating his consciousness.

Long after Connor had retrieved the regulator he’d lost, the coldness still persisted.

Connor didn’t tell anyone about this. He didn’t like remembering what happened there; it made him feel anxious.

But he should have known—Hank is Hank after all. If it’s something he wants, he _will_ make it happen.

******

“Hank, get your ass in my office, right now!”

The first thing that greeted Connor and Hank after they rushed into the office, breathlessly, was Captain Fowler yelling at them from his office at the top of his lungs.

The entire DPD was supposed to be used to it by now, but somehow it was different today. Connor had received quite a few funny glances from the detectives in the office, and some of them even chuckled. These weird reactions did not escape Connor’s eyes, but he did not have a spare mind to care. For some reason, his processor was running significantly slowly today. He decided to run a full self-scan after going through this trial of fire.

“Hank, why the fuck are you doing this _again_!” Before they could even take a breath in the office, the captain has already launched his attack at Hank. “I was just telling chief the other day that you were doing pretty damn well on your attendance, and look what happened today—"

The captain laid his eyes on Connor for the first time today, and his jaw almost dropped to the floor.

“Holy shit, Connor! Did you get hit by a fucking truck or something?”

Connor looked back at him, profoundly confused. He did not remember running into any accident on his way to the office.

“Jesus, look at yourself!” The captain handed him a tablet, with shock and astonishment still written all over his face.

Connor took over the tablet with great puzzlement. Yet when he saw what’s captured by the front camera, the confusion was immediately replaced by shock and embarrassment: his hair was a complete mess; the part on the left was now draping over his forehead, but the right side was worse—disheveled and sticking out like the weed in Hank’s yard. He also did not do a satisfactory job tying his tie on their run to the office, and one side of his collar was actually still up. Connor quickly covered his hair disaster with his hands, while trying desperately to find a good explanation for the pickle that he’s in.

“I am terribly sorry, Captain, I…” Connor tried his best to organize his words, but his language module seemed to have gone offline as well. “Yesterday during routine maintenance, Hank—Lieutenant Anderson made me install this new sleep module, which I have not gotten used to. Afterwards we went home, and I did a bath, and then…”

Connor still couldn’t remember what happened next. He rubbed his hair impatiently, trying to push down those sticking bits here and there. “I feel like I’ve only rested for a while, but when I rebooted it turned out that it was already 10am in the morning. Usually I have full control over my hibernate time, but something is completely off this time… I think maybe there’s something wrong with my time module; I’ll run a self-check as soon as possible.”

He looked up at the captain and was surprised to find that little has changed about his expression. As for his partner—he had been laughing so hard that his face turned red.

“Let me put it in English: Connor slept for the first time in his life, and he overslept.” For someone who had just got scolded, Hank seemed to be in an abnormally good mood. Connor could even sense a hint of pride in his voice. “That damn module was crazy! He fell asleep in the bath yesterday, can you fucking believe that? I had to drag him out of the water and carry him to bed!”

Captain Fowler gave Hank an undoubtedly suspicious look, then turned his gaze back to Connor.

“Connor, did you really… fall asleep?”

Connor frowned, the small LED on his forehead began flashing bright yellow.

“I do not remember. The last thing I recall was lying in the bath. The next thing I know is realizing I’m late for work.”

“Shit…” The look on the captain’s face right now was, in Hank’s word, “spectacular”. Connor could almost see the gears in Captain Fowler’s brain were struggling as hard as they can to grasp what happened, which was honestly unfathomable even to Connor himself. The captain opened and closed his mouths for a few times, but nothing came out. Connor began to wonder whether there’s something wrong with the language component in his brain as well.

After a full minute, the captain finally seemed to have regained his usual calm and composed self.

“So, Connor…” He cleared his throat and started slowly. “How do you feel?”

Connor thought back to the feelings he got when lying in the bath: his processor speed was decreasing at a remarkable rate; his mobile system got affected too, and it was hard to even keep his eyes open; his audio processor as well—he couldn’t make out the words from the TV in the living room.

Yet somehow it was different from the time at the Stratford Tower. Although all of his components were going down, Connor felt…

Warm. Calm. Safe.

Even content.

He felt a smile started growing on his lips.

Connor turned to look at his partner right beside him. Hank had been looking at him for quite some time, but Connor didn’t realize it until now. At that moment he caught something in the other man’s eyes: a keen, almost imploring look, as if he’s deeply hoping for something—

“I feel… good, Captain.”

And that’s when he saw a light lit up in those blue eyes. A warmth, tender, and completely unreserved started blossoming from the elder man’s eyes, travelling through the grooves on his face, spreading all the way to his cheek, his chin, and lips, forming a big smile on Hank’s face, unlike anything Connor had ever seen. The warmth seemed to have reached him through the air as well, gently embracing his core, and growing fast towards the rest of his body.

The captain cleared his throat again and got back their attention.

“I’m glad that you’ve installed this new module, Connor.”  
  
Fowler walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. It wasn’t a gesture that the captain gave out often.

“I’m sure you will enjoy it.”

But then he turned to Hank, changing back to the same strict face that he always put on when they argue.

“But this is not an excuse for you both to be late for work! Especially you, Hank.” Fowler paid no mind to Hank’s impatient face and continued. “Don’t lead Connor off with your bad habits!”

Hank snorted loudly.

“He’s way too much of a smart ass now. Can’t tell him what to do.”

“If you think this will affect my performance, I can go to the maintenance station today and change to a module with timer functionality.” Connor stepped between the two, hoping to end this fight before it got any worse.

To his surprise, the captain gave up very easily this time. He shook his head at Connor’s suggestion and sat back down to his seat.

“No need. An alarm at 7 every morning will do the trick; this is how humans do it.”

Fowler rolled his eyes at his lieutenant on the other side. Hank turned his head, pretended he did not notice. Fowler sighed deeply.

“At least that’s how _adults_ do it.”

Hank snorted again.

“Well, if we’re all done here, _captain_ , we have work to do.”

Before the captain could say anything, he grabbed Connor by the arm and started walking out of the office. Yet Connor managed to sneak a glance at the captain before leaving.

He was definitely smiling.


	5. December, 2046

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The digital clock on the wall blinked steadily.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Three hours, fifty-minutes, and twelve seconds.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Three hours, fifty-minutes, and eight seconds.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

He felt cold.

Connor knew it wasn’t real. He didn’t turn on his sensors; there was no way for him to receive signals like that.

 _It’s just a result of high stress level._ Connor thought to himself. _You shouldn’t mind it._

So he tried not to mind.

Yet the coldness did not go away as he hoped; instead, it seemed to grow with every beat of his Thirium pump. Connor began running his self-diagnosis program for the thirteenth time in the past ten minutes, but the result came out the same: all components were functioning correctly; tactile sensors were inactive; the environmental temperature was a perfectly comfortable 77-degree.

He had not reason to feel cold.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

“It’s very different, knowing something and actually doing it.” Hank once said to him. “Sometimes you just can’t make it happen, although you know exactly how it should be.”

Connor couldn’t understand at the time. As long as the instructions given were clear enough, he could follow them precisely and execute them without fail.

Hank noticed the confused little yellow ring on his forehead and smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll understand.”

 _Just like now,_ Connor thought. _I know I shouldn’t feel cold._

Yet he couldn’t help but feel the chill climbing up from the tip of his numbing fingers, as if they had really been freezing up all this time. He tried curling them up tentatively, only to find out that the signal could not be delivered.

He looked down and realized that his hands were shaking.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

He didn’t know how much time had passed.

He’s lost in a raging blizzard. The brutal gale roared like an apocalypse, demolishing everything that kept him grounded.

No more Logic. No more algorithm. No more time.

Only he remained, all alone in the eye of the storm.

Extreme coldness went through him like a spear. The wound started spreading from the core, threatening to rip him into a thousand pieces. There was little left of his consciousness now—the screaming agony deep within his mind has become his only reality.

The overwhelming stress made his pump pound like crazy, but it still couldn’t seem to provide enough Thirium for his central processor.

Connor closed his eyes.

******

Hank opened his eyes.

The darkness made him panicked for a moment, but his eyes soon adjusted to it. He looked around and quickly realized that he was lying in a hospital.

Yes, now he remembered. They were chasing that fucking red ice dealer, and he didn’t listen to Connor’s advice to wait for backup. He followed that bastard to the second floor, then—

He reached for his neck instinctively. It was now well bandaged up, and quite numb from the anesthesia. Yet Hank could still sense a dull, throbbing pain radiating from the entry wound.

“You’re lucky. The bullet missed your carotid artery.” A familiar voice broke the silence, and almost made Hank jump from the shock. “A few more inches and you’ll be dead.”

And that’s when he finally noticed the blinking LED in the shadow by the entrance. His android partner was standing there, completely motionless, reminiscent of a pale wax figure.

“Jesus Christ, Connor! You scared the shit out of me!” The older man cursed loudly. Rubbing his eyes wearily, he forced himself to take in a deep breath. “God, why the fuck—”

Hank opened his eyes and Connor was standing right beside him; he must have snuck up quietly when he wasn’t noticing. The yellow circle on Connor’s head seemed almost jarring against the darkness.

 “Why didn’t you listen to me?” Connor interrupted him, something that almost never happened. He also sounded a little different than usual, but Hank couldn’t quite tell what it was. “You could have—”

“I know, I know,” Hank waved his hand, trying to brush off Connor’s rare overreaction. “I’m a cop, it’s in the job description—”

“ ** _No you don’t!_** ” Connor suddenly raised his voice, much to Hank’s shock. His partner was now hovering over him, almost uncomfortably close, and completely invading his personal space. His dark brown eyes were staggeringly clear in the darkness, and in them burned a blazing flame that Hank had never seen before.

“You have no idea!” The yellow LED has turned to an alarming crimson. “You could have _died_ , Hank! You have no idea how… I—”

Like a fish falling out of its tank, Connor’s mouth moved incessantly, hopelessly: open and close, open and close…

Yet there was only silence.

Hank had never seen Connor this disturbed. No, not just disturbed, but desperate—

Connor suddenly grabbed his wrist.

The older detective never knew his partner had such strength in him. It almost felt like his bone was caught between the jaw of a lion, just a little more pressure and it would shatter to pieces. He almost cried out from the pain, but the scene in front of his eyes choked the sound back down his throat.

The arm that was holding his wrist—if it could still be called an arm—has removed all of its synthetic skin, baring the naked silver polymer underneath. From the clutched fingers escaped a hint of faint blue light, illuminating the darkness around.

Hank remembered this. After he rented that Traci for him at the Eden Club, Connor was holding that girl’s arm in the same way.

He immediately understood.

Waves and waves of emotions rushed over him like a wild flood, almost knocking the heart out of his chest. Hank wanted to say something, _anything_ , yet the drowning feeling in his lungs made it even too hard to breathe.

But words weren’t necessary. The look on his face has betrayed everything.

The pressure around his wrist disappeared. Hank looked up, and his gaze stumbled right into those brown eyes. Although just for an instant, Hank could swear that he saw apprehension and vulnerability in them, and something else—a silent, painful realization, as if Connor just understood how utterly _alone_ he was—

It wounded him deeply.

The silence between them lingered on. Connor stood in the darkness, his head lowered, perfectly still. Hank couldn’t make out his expression; the only thing he could see was the glaring red light on his forehead.

So he waited.

When Connor finally looked up from the not so interesting floor, the look on his face almost made Hank worried that he was about to cry the very next second.

“Lieutenant, I’m sorry…” This was the first time Hank had seen Connor so distressed, and he finally recognized the strangeness in Connor’s voice: he was shaking. “I just—”

Without waiting for the end of that sentence, Hank reached behind Connor’s back and pulled him into a hug. The wound on his neck stung from his sudden movement, and his lying position only made the entire action all the more awkward.

But Hank couldn’t care less.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Connor, like a drowning man hanging onto a piece of driftwood, like his life depended on it.

_You are right. I’m sorry. I’m scared, too. Thank God you’re here._

He probably could never say these words out loud to Connor. He could only hold him as tightly as he could, praying that the sweeping tides in his chest could somehow reach the other, even just a little bit.

He felt Connor hesitated for a bit, then carefully squeezed his arms in the space between Hank’s back and the hospital bed, returning the hug with just the right amount of pressure. After slightly adjusting his position, Connor buried his face in Hank’s neck—the unwounded side, of course.

Although Hank couldn’t see his face, he knew Connor was smiling.

He patted his partner on the head, this time very gently.

“Hey… This is how humans communicate.”


	6. October, 2050

“Hank, stop hiding in the bathroom. I’m not gonna let you miss the flight.” After dragging the suitcases to the doorway, Connor turned around and called out towards the other end of the house.

His comment was met with a discontented grunt, then a few curses under the breath. Connor knew he’d scored a bullseye again.

Connor always knew that Hank hated travelling. For the twelve years that they've known each other, Hank did not even once step out of the city of Detroit. But the blandness and boredom of life after retirement soon caught up with Hanl, not to mention that October has always been a difficult month for him. So it seemed only natural for Connor to arrange this trip for them after receiving Kara’s invitation from Canada. This would be Hank’s first travel after retirement, and Connor’s own first ever vacation.

“Jesus,” Hank finally joined him on the front porch, his jacket definitely too thin for the upcoming weather. “Cops spending vacation with fugitives that got away years ago…Who would’ve thought.”

Connor ignored his comment and started to check for the last time whether they’ve brought all the necessities.

“Passport, keys, and your wallet…”

Despite the impatient look on his face, the older man still pulled out the things in the list one by one and showed them in front of Connor.

“How on earth can a police android be more nagging than a household model?”

Connor frowned slightly, clearly annoyed by the comparison.

“This ensures our schedule will go as planned. If you weren’t forgetting your things left and right, all the time, I wouldn’t have to fall back on this type of precaution.”

“Sure, fine, whatever.” Hank threw up his hand in defeat. He climbed into the cab waiting by the street. “Fucking smartass.”

Connor followed him right into the car; a victorious smile crept up his face.

******

Kara’s family has settled down in a small town in Newfoundland. It was a fishing village, but humans had abandoned it years ago. After more and more androids came to Canada, they gradually gathered there, and rebuilt the village together.

“…Android’s Promised Land.” Hank mumbled quietly before falling back into silence.

Connor cast a glance at his former partner.

Hank has gotten a lot quieter compared to when they'd just gotten off the plane. There were no more complaints about how shitty the weather was in Canada, or how mid-October here felt like early winter already. Now Hank was just sitting in the front seat with his arms crossed, watching the coastline quietly passing by. The pale sunlight sneaking through the window seemed to have softened everything it touched, even the sharp lines carved out his profile.

 _Thanks to the AC in the car and that scarf I got him,_ Connor thought to himself.

He shifted his focus back to the road before them.

Unlike Detroit’s highly modern and industrialized cityscape, Newfoundland was still very much a realm of nature. Beside the narrow dusty road stretched an endless view of greenery, with grass and shrubs and wild flowers that Connor couldn’t name. Occasionally a few sheep or cattle would come into view, wagging their tails and roaming about the grassland contentedly, then slowly disappearing again. On the other side the ocean was soundly asleep. From time to time, a few passing seagulls would fly down and bring about some ripples, but nothing could disrupt the serenity of the deep blue sea. Without the cars and buildings racing by the edge of his sight, Connor almost had the illusion of being perfectly still, as if they were within an exquisite snow globe, and the entire world was but one single frozen moment.

He turned his gaze back on his companion.

Hank had fallen asleep at some point; almost half of his face was now buried in the woolen scarf around his neck. The bright red of the fabric underneath made his gray hair seem even more faded than usual.

And that’s when the realization struck Connor for the first time, just how much Hank had aged in the years that passed. Living together day to day has made it easy to let those small changes simply slip away. These past twelve years haven’t left too many marks on Connor, but at the same time made him forget that to humans, time takes on a much more different meaning.

He looked at the unchanging view outside the window.

It wouldn’t be so bad if time were to stop here and now.

******

The meeting with Kara was very close to what Connor had anticipated. Time had long forgiven the antagonism in the past; Kara and Luther welcomed them warmly like two old friends. Although Hank was still feeling a bit nervous in the first day or two, the palpable kindness of their hosts soon helped him forget his uneasiness.

Only Alice came across as a real surprise to Connor. Although he’d already sensed that something was off with this little girl years ago, the thought that she might have been one of them somehow never crossed his mind.

But that wasn’t the real surprise. Shortly after the revolution, CyberLife started offering update services for child models, so that they could experience growing up like any regular human children. The fact that Alice still kept her original body after all these years was much more shocking for Connor.

From the wide eyes and opened mouth on the former lieutenant’s face, Connor could tell that he was not the only one surprised by it.

But to Connor’s amazement, Hank accepted the news rather smoothly. Before he knew it, Hank has made himself a best buddy to Alice. He would even allow the little one to mess with his beard and hair—and that’s a first for the grumpy old man that Connor knew. Every morning Alice would perform the “wake-Hank-up” routine in his place, dragging the older man to walk their furry Newfoundland dog together bright and early. Hank often complained about “that little troublemaker” in front of him, but Connor could always see the unmistakable joy behind those clear blue eyes.

Connor couldn’t help but feel a little envious towards Hank. Just a few days ago, Alice was still tiptoeing around both of them. However, it didn’t even take Hank a full week to win Alice over, whereas Connor, despite all his efforts, still couldn’t seem to win the trust of that little one.

He watched as Alice played around Hank’s hair with great enthusiasm; she was wrestling with those messy gray hair to make them into a bun.

Connor let out a quiet sigh.

“Don’t worry,” As if she had somehow heard the thoughts in his head, Kara came up to him with a gentle smile. Connor has always liked her smile; despite her small stature, Kara seemed to harbor an endless well of strength and warmth. “Alice likes you. She just hasn’t quite figured out how to interact with you.”

Connor had to admit that dealing with children has not been his strongest suit—unlike Hank. Connor could hardly recognize Hank whenever he was with Alice: his bad tempered was nowhere to be found, and so were those complaints about being old and tired all the time. No matter what games Alice suggested, Hank could always find the energy to gladly play along. He was also a surprisingly good storyteller; when Alice finally got tired from all the games and play, Hank would sit down with her and fill the time with many vivid tales. Connor never once imagined that his former partner would have this in him.

He replied with a shrug of resignation. “Seems like humans are right after all: you can’t always get what you want.”

They stood and watched the playful duo in the living room quietly, neither of them wanting to interrupt this rare moment of peace. Yet the question that has been haunting Connor ever since they arrived was still troubling him, and he needed an answer.

“Kara…”

After a long hesitation, Connor finally opened his mouth.

“Why is Alice still in her original body?”

The android standing next to him must have anticipated it. The calm complexion on her face hasn’t changed the slightest.

“You know, you’re not the first one to ask me that.” After a while she slowly started, her eyes still fixed on Alice. “Humans, androids… Many have.”

She turned and looked at Connor, who was clearly still confused. A little smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “No matter what you’re thinking right now, it’s probably not that complicated.”

“The truth is, we simply thought it wasn’t really necessary.”

Kara turned her gaze back to Alice, those gentle sapphire eyes reminding Connor of the warm summer skies in Detroit.

“In a sense, Alice was shoved into this world, and definitely not its best part. Before we escaped, she never got a chance to get to know this world, really and truly.”

Even without the LED, Connor could easily tell from those furrowed brows and pursed lips that it wasn’t a pleasant memory. He knew Kara and Alice were abused by their owner, but they never had any real discussion about it.

“Sometimes I would have nightmares about being back at that house, watching Todd stomping up to her, with a belt in his hand… And I know Alice has them, too.”

“A part of us is still trapped in that stormy night.”

Kara lowered her eyes.

“That’s why I want to give her time to see this world through a different lens. To live life without having to be terrified or on the run all the time. I want to give her a normal childhood. And for us, this has just begun. Luther and I still have so many things to do and places to go with Alice. Before she enters the next stage of life, we want to give her as many good memories as possible.”

“I know I must sound like a selfish mother now,” Kara gave him a bashful grin, her right hand fidgeting with the hair behind her ear. “Maybe I really am.”

“But don’t get me wrong—we will not hesitate when that moment comes. She only needs to ask.”

The sound of Alice’s laughter reached them across the room, along with the soft crackle of the small fireplace, filling the room with a soothing warmth. Outside, Luther was talking with a few neighbors who happened to drop by. Connor could tell from their outfits that most of them were androids, but there were also two humans wrapped in bright scarves and puffy coats, beanie on head and knitted gloves on hands, a clear contrast to their android neighbors. Yet no one seemed to mind.

It wasn’t hard to see why they didn’t want things to change.

Connor and Kara both fell silent again. Hank and Alice were still playing in the living room, perfectly unaware of the attentions that they’ve been getting.

Just when Connor thought their conversation has come to an end, Kara broke the silence.

“I’m always grateful at times like this, knowing that Alice is one of us.” Kara’s voice was quiet. Too quiet—as if she was murmuring to herself. “We got to make up for the time we missed, never rushed or hurried. In a way, we can even stop time…”

She sighed almost inaudibly.

“Sometimes it feels like _cheating._ ”

There was a strange mixture of emotions in Kara’s voice; Connor couldn’t tell what they were exactly, but they reminded him of the endless shoreline and boundless green, all in one perfect snow globe.

“I think anyone would’ve done the same.” Connor answered softly, even though he wasn’t sure whether a reply was even expected in the first place.

Kara turned to him, the look in her eyes indecipherable. There was a hesitant pause, but only for a moment.

“—you see, Connor. That’s the difference between us and humans.”

The snow globe shattered into a million pieces, the shards sinking deep into his chest.

“ _We_ have a choice.”

******

Two weeks went by much faster than Connor had expected. Despite their protests, the family still insisted on driving them all the way to the airport. Luther claimed that hospitality has long been a tradition here, and they were simply doing as the Canadians do.

Alice wouldn’t stop crying or let go of Hank’s jacket until he and Connor promised her that they would try to come and visit every year. His former partner has hidden it well, but Connor still noticed the hint of redness under his eyes.

“Connor.”

Kara’s voice stopped him in his tracks. She was smiling at him, as gently as ever. Yet her eyes spoke more of worry and sorrow rather than genuine happiness.

“You know that you’ll always be welcomed here.”

Connor nodded without saying a word. He picked up his pace and quickly caught up to Hank, who has clearly slowed down his stride to wait for Connor.

“What did she say?” Hank raised his eyebrows curiously.

“Nothing.”

Ignoring the heaviness in his chest, Connor gave him a smile before looking up at the cloudless sky.

“This did not feel like two weeks at all.”


End file.
